Diamonds and Rubies
by CyKiESuMMerS
Summary: 'The one thought about me when I'm in front of him and it's about food.'  Ch.4 UP! Look back on the younger days, Emma Frost on one of her rare visits to the institute. Pre Scott/Jean
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note:

Some dribble drabbles of Scott's musings.

This is set after he escaped Three Mile Island

With the help of Emma Frost AKA the

White Queen, and

What separate paths they

took and his life after at the

Xavier Institute.

What changes take place,

reminiscing, and Scott is

still blind but not for long.

I have a X-Men:Evolution version of this,

And was considering adding this,

But decided it would be better

Separate in the X-Men movie genre.

R&R please! And thankyou :o)

-X-

Diamonds Are Forever

-The Mutant who Showed Me

It had been nearly a year since the mutants' escape from Stryker's Three Mile Island, and young Scott Summers mutely sat in a darkness he had grown familiar to, with a thought that had been deeply troubling to him since they day he got out.

Sometimes he could not tell if he was awake or dreaming since the blank darkness of sightlessness was undistinguished. His blindness rendered day and night all the same and his thoughts were blind as well. He recalled the day he stepped foot off his prison with fellow mutant prisoners, and he was the most lost, being blind and all.

A girl whom he knew could turn into diamonds, had helped him out of his predicament, and to him at the moment of peril and havoc, her guiding voice and soft hand firmly gripping his was like the melodious light and sound at the end of a brightening tunnel to which he could see out of the darkness enclosing his head.

In that surprisingly short time that they had escaped off the island, his blindness heightened other senses and he felt that the girl and he had bonded in a most unusual and original way.

After all that had happened following his release, he could not get this mysterious, faceless girl out of his mind. They had been separated when Scott chose to go with the kind Professor who sounded nice enough, and after her firm grip left his arm, Scott felt emptier, lighter, and never forgot the feeling of his guide on his arm. He often stayed up at nights, unable to sleep or unsure if he was sleeping or not. Images blindly flashed in his mind and distant sounds he could recall that were much more prominent and clearer than the images.

In all the chaos in his dark brain suffering traumas and dark memories, it seemed as if he could not shake off thinking of the glimmer of light he imagined as this girl's voice and presence. He often wondered what she looked like, and then wondered if it really matter at all and if he would ever see her, or meet her again.

To him, she was her guardian angel, and he futilely tossed and turned in bed each night, hoping to glimpse her sometime in the future and to be able to at least put a face to the voice and touch, to show her his gratitude and pay her back for the impact she had on him.

Scott touched his face warily, wondering what it looked like now, if it had changed, and felt the gaunt cheekbones, the burgeoning jaw that was filling out of his youth and becoming more shaped in manliness. He felt the bulky object obscuring his eyes and he hated it. He combed his fingers through his soft hair and pinched himself for the sake of nothing. Tomorrow he was to fit into his new glasses that had taken months to order and create and custom to his face and optical needs.

Scott thought that he would be nervous or excited, just as the whole mansion's residency was, but instead, he felt nothing, he felt detached. He knew his new friend, Jean Grey, who was his age maybe a year older, who had come to the mansion a few months after his arrival and quickly grew attached to him, was extremely excited for his sight and vision to return. Scott amused himself in the fact that he had scarcely wondered what she would look like, despite their time together and his closeness to her, but he was obsessed with the mystery girl on the island he had never seen and had only spent about a good ten minutes with before they both parted for new beginnings and separate lives.

Jean was a very good friend and he knew she was beautiful inside and he honestly did not care what she looked like on the outside. He was told she was attractive and he was also told that he was very attractive, but he would not believe it nor care until he could see for himself.

When he had first met her, he had tried to shake her hand but was faced the wrong way, opposite from her. She giggled and made light of his mistake, but he judged her from that first playful giggle, apparently the first smile the mutants had seen on her since she had arrived at the mansion. In his blindness in a world full of sight, his teenage awkwardness, puberty, adolescence and self-esteem, that giggle was aggravating.

Thus, his first impression of her made him think of her as a dumb, ignorant, and humiliating female creature who giggled too much at everything he did or said. Little did he know that she was not laughing at him in a degrading way, but in an adoring 'aw' way.

After getting to really know her, Scott was proven wrong and decided that even though he could not see, he still judged books by their covers and it was ironically superficial. He found himself spending more time with her than all the other residents of the mansion and she enjoyed spending time with him.

Without sight, he was still clueless and oblivious and often felt unsure. Scott got to know her regardless of his blindness, and knew that seeing her for the first time would not change as much as she expected it would.

Whenever Scott mentioned the faceless girl to Jean and the adults, namely Logan and Charles, Logan teased him much to Jean's displeasure, about his crush on the mystery girl, and Charles would inform him that she had chosen her own path and was reportedly doing well with a different group in the Hellfire Club. Jean would just chide him and wonder about this mysterious boy's obsession with someone he had never seen and she had never met.

Charles once offered if he wanted him to get her number for him so he could speak on the phone with her to thank her or say whatever he wanted. Scott would fumble and blush, muttering excuses about not wanting to be a random caller to someone he hardly knew.

Scott often amused himself in imagining that maybe she was some unfortunate looking dreadful girl, a mutated monster, a gorgeous angel, or a fat mutant. He settled on the latter, choosing not to bring his hopes up for a hypothetical moment he never allowed himself to imagine.

Then one day, prior to his vision returning, he brought up the courage to call her. It would have been like a typical adolescent boy to gather his bundle of shaking nerves, uncertain voice, and nervous hands to pick up the phone and dial the object of his dreams and desire, but this was no ordinary situation. For Scott Summers was no ordinary boy and the girl in mind was no ordinary girl and they were not two normal teenagers with trivial high school woes and puppy love antics. No, no, they were very different, and Scott would soon learn, especially from each other.

The prolonged and dreadful silence in between those painful rings for every teenage boy rang in Scott's head as he held the receiver with shaking hands, hoping that the professor had dialed the right number for him, but when there was a lapse in the rings, he dearly hoped the professor had dialed the wrong number and Scott could just continue to dream on and imagine this fantasy girl instead of embarrassing himself on the phone.

He had been graciously warned that this girl was indeed no ordinary girl and that he should not be offended if the phone call put him off, and that she was not one to know the concepts of youthful calls and friendly dials.

With this in mind, he fumbled on the speaker for a moment when the eternal ringing finally ceased and somebody picked up at the other end. Scott, not expecting this, froze up when he heard the familiar and distant voice say, "Hello?"

It was not until the third hello, that Scott snapped back to his duty and found his voice to which he croaked out nervously, "Hi, uh, Em-Emma Frost?"

There was a silence and a vague voice drawled, "Yes, this is she, whose speaking?"

Scott blurted out, "Scott, Scott Summers! I mean, sorry, I didn't mean to shout, I uh, I don't know if you remember me, but I'm the guy you sort of helped out back at… back at…oh my god, sorry I don't know why I'm calling and bothering you like this…"

Scott cringed at his own self and she hesitantly replied, "Oh, yes, the blind boy." Scott inwardly winced. He did not get to feel relieved for long that she remembers him because she continued coldly, "Yes, what is it that you want? Is this important? I wasn't expecting a call from…you. I haven't got much time for chitchat, I'm very busy these days, how are you?"

Scott was taken by surprise that she asked how he was and blubbered, "Um, great, good, thanks for asking. I'm getting new glasses soon so I can finally see again! Not that you'd…anyway h-how are you? It's been um a while."

He could almost see her eyebrow go up in dull condescension. She replied stiffly and evenly, "Um, fine, I suppose. Look, it's been nice to receive a call from you, but I've got to go, I've got some business to take care of. Congratulations on your new glasses, I hope all goes well for you."

Scott pushed himself and before he could stop himself, asked out loud, "Wait, would you like to meet up sometime and maybe I could show you around instead of the opposite this time?" It was a shot in the literal dark and he took it. This was much harder, talking to girls, than facing hostile guns and mutants.

There was an icy silence and Emma said airily in a bemused tone, with a tiny laugh, "Are you asking me on a date? Wait, please don't answer that. This is rich… Okay, listen blind boy, uh ah yes, what we shared on that dreadful island was very brief and I'm sure very touching, but I'm a very busy girl these days and I haven't time for such…cute pettiness and much less some hormonal boy's fantasies. I really have got to go now, but who knows, maybe I'll drop by the institute one of these days and see the life I turned from, either way, cheerio!"

The line went dead and Scott chokingly set the phone down and rummaged through his hair with his hands.

Now as he sat, he thought guiltily about how his foul mood had affected the mansion and how he had snapped at Jean who only tried to console him. In another part of the mansion, Jean was worrying about the same thing. She blamed her friend's moodiness on his anticipation for the big day tomorrow and understood it would be stressful. Yet she could not help but feel extremely excited and nervous. He would finally be able to see. And he would finally be able to see her.

Jean already had an outfit picked for the day of Scott's sight and hoped to shock him in a good way, but then she worried he would think of her as ugly and unattractive. She knew that her other new friend, Ororo, was not interested in Scott since she knew her friendship to Jean was more important, and knew that she should not come between the two. Still, Jean had her doubts, and feared that if Scott opened his eyes and saw the young weather goddess, he would instantly fall in love with her exotic beauty. Jean twisted a lock of red hair and suddenly wished she could be an African mutant girl with stark white hair.

Jean also hoped that he would not think she was awkward and nerdy and too thin and that without his blindness, would suddenly notice her touchiness to him helping him around, and think of her as weird.

They shared many bonding times together, lying outside on the grass under the stars while Jean would grab his hand and point it at certain constellations, describing them to him. It was lucky for her that he had been blind because he never caught her staring longingly at his face and sometimes his merging body.

This strange, stoic, uncertain, and blind boy had caught her fancy and won her heart in their meager friendship and the mysteriousness of his grim mouth and silent demeanor excited her. He seemed immune to what normal teenage boys fell victim to, but that was in part to his burden as a mutant of his power and past.

Ever since he came to the mansion, he had been well-fed, nourished, revived, and kept fitter by training daily and honing his skills despite his disability. Jean watched her new friend soon transform from a nervous slim boy into a growing young man with a new fantastic body, great hair, and a definite aura of potential hunkiness. His guard, mystery, and awkwardness though, made him even more delicious to her, especially since he was so oblivious of himself, the effect he had on girls, and how he looked since he was sightless.

-X-x-X-x-

The following day, was the day of the big moment, when the resident golden boy would see for the first time, his new yet familiar surroundings and new family.

Ororo and Jean were decorating a picnic table outside in the sprawling gardens of the mansion, beautifully kept. They spread a table cloth outside and set punch bowls and salads and snacks out for Scott, and were planning on surprising him with a sign that read, "Welcome Home Scott, Good to FINALLY See ya!"

The other mutants gathered around in party attire and were buzzing with excitement and discussing what it would be like to finally be seen by Scott, and how important this day was to all of them. A young girl silently crept in unnoticed until collective heads turned to see this stranger. She sat on a bench under a tree and was approached by Hank, the blue Beast and he offered her a claw and asked who she was and how they could help her. She crisply and vaguely replied and was left alone.

The men and boys checked her out curiously and Warren whispered to Jean, "Who's she?" Jean shrugged in response, just as curious to whom this radiantly pretty girl was.

Before more people could wonder and find out, a murmuring brought everyone's attention to Xavier who was wheeling into the backyard with Scott in tow, blindly being helped by Logan. Charles had a box on his lap and Scott had bandages around his eyes.

He shakily shuffled forward when Logan pushed him in front of all the people he had grown to know. Warren started clapping and everybody else clapped with him, cheering Scott on excitedly. Jean smiled adoringly at her best friend; he looked so cute and dressed up with his hair combed back and his new sweater on.

He still moved like he was the awkward lanky youth he was, because he could not see or know of his new body and what he was beginning to look like. His mannerisms were adorable.

She felt anxious at his bandages coming off to reveal that sculpted face. Logan growled out, "Settle down, kids, you're overwhelming our little hot shot here. You gonna be okay squirt?" Scott nodded and blanched. Xavier lifted a shining pair of ruby glasses up and everyone grew silent, the festive mood became respective.

Xavier enunciated, "Thank you children, for gathering here today to welcome our cherished member, into the wonderful world of sight!" He was met by cheers and cat calls from the kids and applause rang in Scott's ears. Xavier placed the glasses over Scott's shut eyes.

With them securely on, the professor whispered encouragingly, "It's okay Scott, you can open them now…"

Scott trembled and slowly opened his eyelids to a new world of bright pink. His eyebrows shot up and he stumbled backwards, overwhelmed by the sight of all his friends around him, clapping and cheering. All the faces and strange morphed colors were unsettling and he could not focus.

Then as if a magnet or a beacon of light, one face assemble and seemed to stand out and radiate. It was the only face that he could distinguish clearly.

Jean stood proudly at Scott's eye-opening moment and blushed timidly as he seemed to gaze straight at her, unable to speak or stop staring. His mouth was parted and he seemed rooted to the spot. There were murmurs and everyone turned in her direction to see what he was so enraptured by.

Then it seemed as if he did not even see her, for his laser-like gaze was aimed straight and precisely at someone sitting on a bench behind Jean.

Xavier chuckled to himself and Logan roared out in gruff laughter, for he had already had a few beers by now. "Close your mouth boy scout, that's the wrong one, that's not your beloved Jean, she'd be the one standing right there with the flamin' red hair."

Scott shook his head with his mouth still parted and Xavier wheeled towards the mysterious girl. Scott followed slowly, disbelieving and muttered, "She's beautiful. I know her." He walked past a stunned Jean and stood unsurely in front of the girl. She looked icily at him and said vaguely, "Hello Scott, congratulations on your new glasses." Scott's grin broke wide and hazy and he said as if drunk off air, "H-Hi! Y-you!" Others laughed and she nodded, "Me."

Scott in a fit of happiness and excitement, embraced the girl in a bear hug and exclaimed, "It's you! It's really you! I never dreamt I'd see you!" The startled girl slowly warmed up and returned his hug. Jean gaped and asked, "Who is she?"

Scott involuntarily answered the question for Jean and as if scared to touch the girl, released her and stared into her face, "You're Emma Frost!"

There were a few inaudible gasps and Emma smiled and said, "Certainly yours, I told you I might drop by and say hello. This is quite…quaint. You've grown up. You have changed since the last time I saw you." Scott blushed, for he had not seen her the last time that they met and he had not seen himself either. He shrugged, "I still don't know what I look like yet. But you-you're…wow. I can't believe this is happening and you're here and real and I can see you and that voice…"

He trailed off and their eyes lingered on one another chillingly. Scott realized he had to look down into her face and she had to look up. That was when he did notice he had grown a few inches because he remembered his shoulders at the same height as hers and their heads at the same level when she had stood beside him and guided him around safely back at the island.

Without his sight, he did not feel like a real human entity, just a floating head or bunch of thoughts in a perpetual darkness where other sounds and voices came and went with disembodied personas. Now he really felt flesh and blood, like a human boy, and that certainly woke up senses and parts of his body he had forgotten about as he stared at this gorgeous girl with cold pale eyes and platinum blonde hair and a face of an angel. The face he had dreamt of.

Even with a red tinge to everything, her cold glare pierced through at him.

He weakly smiled and did not take his eyes off her even as Logan ushered him around to meet the people he had come to know, via faces.

Finally the moment of truth came and he was turned to face Jean Grey for the first time with his vision. She shyly cast her eyes down, a bit forlorn but he grabbed her face and smiled warmly, "I can finally put a face to the best friend. You're really pretty, Jean. You made yourself sound like such a dork and I didn't really care, but you definitely undermine yourself." Jean, eyes filled with happy tears, leapt forward and hugged Scott happily and cried out, "Oh, Scott, this changes everything. You can see! I can't wait to do other things with you now." This statement caused her to get wry looks and she blushed, saying, "I mean, well that came out wrong."

Scott looked around at all the faces beginning to establish in his mind as parts of the people and personalities he knew. Vivid colors played in his brain and he felt like he was high. Not once though, did he let himself lose sight of the icy blonde, in fear of losing sight of her forever.

-X-

Author's Note:

Reviews please! Will he remain blind to his best friend's

Affections and their not-so-platonic relationship?

What happens when the new mystery girl stays around for a little?

Will Scott live out his fantasies?

Will he finally see himself for who he is?


	2. Red Hot Love

_A.N.: R&R please! _

**Red Hot Love**

**-X-**

The last echoing telepathic thoughts were fading in Scott's head as he woke up, and became conscious of what the words meant. He groaned happily in his bed, feeling cozy in his sheets, and rolled to the side, curling up before yawning and stretching out. For the first time in a while, he opened his eyes to the morning, he opened his eyes awake out of slumber and it was a marvelous sight.

Looking at the time, he realized that he had overslept. He rolled over and then swung his long legs off his bed and just drank in the red sight. Things were still a bit too bright for him but his eyes adjusted. Scott then remembered the words in his head at the moment of his awakening.

'New…Out in...Garage…keys…waiting…be safe…fun…take…'

Scott mussed up his bed head and wondered what the Professor's words could have meant. Without further urgency, he stood up to shower and then dressed himself in clothes of his choice for the first time since his arrival at the mansion. This was quite a feat for him and he spent a good deal of time studying himself in the mirror, his new and unfamiliar body. He was almost surprised, shocked, when he saw a stranger standing in his reflection.

He noticed this stranger was wearing ruby glasses and moved with his motions, but he was too muscular and tall to be Scott. Where was the scrawny Scott he had been?

Scott marveled at his reflection and looked down at his new hardened body and touched the real flesh, surprised at how well toned and taut he had become in a short period of time. He grinned goofily at himself and shrugged as he picked out his clothes, making sure to be careful of the colors. The end result of a brown Italian leather bomber jacket thrown over a striped shirt and jeans was tasteful and sharp so he stepped out for his day.

As the brown haired boy jauntily stepped over to the kitchen for some toast and bagels left out on a platter, he bumped into someone else headed in the same direction and coming from the girl's wing.

They both fell back on their butts and Scott chivalrously got up and firmly took her hand and pulled her up to him.

For a moment, Scott was breath taken all over again, staring straight into the face of his guardian angel. The angel smarmily lifted up a silky brow and flickered her cold gaze up and down his body to his face and smirked. She drawled, "My, I must compliment you on your good taste."

Scott blushed and shrugged again. He found his voice and felt it come out distantly like it did when he was blind and felt disembodied. "Thanks, and good morning Emma, did you sleep okay?"

Emma shrugged and led him to the kitchen where she brewed herself coffee and poured herself a bowl of vanilla yogurt and granola. "I don't really sleep. Ever. How did you sleep?" Scott replied that he had been excited but thoroughly exhausted and slept like a baby. She noticed that he could not stop staring at her and pardoned it since she was used to stares, although not as intense and adoring as his own gaze.

He seemed to be saying, 'I want to drink in this sight and absorb as much as I can because sight is a beautiful thing I will never take for granted again.' He blatantly said, "You look awesome. I'm sorry, I can't get over this seeing thing, I have to look at everything, it's like I'm afraid if I don't see it now, I'll lose my vision later. I like your top thingy." She laughed and looked down at her own white tube top with ribbons tying in the front. "Awesome, that's a new one. I've been called a lot of things, but never awesome-looking."

He took a seat on the kitchen table across from her and she said, "I was pretty surprised when you called me, I figured that you had forgotten all about me. Although, in the end, I had to come by and see you again because I had to see for myself, the boy who would ask me on a date before you even ever saw me. That must have meant something."

Scott eagerly leaned forward and in his awkward excitement, placed his hand over hers on her coffee mug and blurted out, "It does! I couldn't get you out of my mind since we escaped. Not that I think of you…like that, often, I mean, I h-hardly knew you I just, I mean, I r-really wanted a chance to um speak to you and let you know how grateful I was that you were at my side during all that…"

She eyed his hand with a bemused smirk and he turned bright pink at his cheeks and quickly withdrew his hand. She leaned forward haughtily and responded, "Didn't you want to show me around? What about those keys waiting for you on the key peg?" Scott whirled his head around to look at the pegs nailed into the kitchen wall by Logan and saw a single set of keys hanging with a Ferrari emblazon on it.

Scott dropped his toast and stood up to retrieve the key, connecting the chopped up words from his sleep. He looked puzzled at Emma and stuttered, "How did you-." Emma tapped her temple with a manicured finger and said, "I'm a telepath, Scott. Comes with these little perks and maybe I grazed over your head a bit when I couldn't sleep. You have a delicious mind and some intriguing thoughts that I'd like to explore more…with you."

Scott gulped and hammered his head, trying to think of what exactly he had been thinking, and hoping that he did not reveal too much to her or embarrass himself. "So that means you read my mind back on the island and…when we first met again?"

-xXx-

After they finished their breakfasts, Scott took Emma to the garage to see what surprise would be waiting for him. He switched on the light and nearly had a heart attack at the beauty in front of him. Scott rushed over and crouched low by the car, running his hands over the top of the exterior, studying its every intricate design and checking out the engine. He nearly had tears in his eyes but luckily his glasses concealed them.

Scott excitedly exclaimed, "It's a Dino model! A Ferrari Dino!" Emma bemusedly watched him act like a little boy on Christmas morning. She found it…endearing at the most maybe refreshing.

She smiled, "Impressive. Are you going to break it in?" Scott smiled at her and said, "Of course, let me take you for a spin! It's been nearly two years since I drove but I'm a good driver, I promise. I want my first ride in this car to be with you." Now with the shiny red car at his side, he felt invincible and forgot about his low self esteem in front of his dream girl and opened the passenger seat door for her to slide in. She didn't mind him being so naïve and forward in his clueless ness.

When they got back the following evening after a nice scenic drive and Emma having a go at the wheel and Scott taking her to a nice dinner and dessert, Hank and Warren were up playing LIFE the board game in the living room. Jean was watching on with Ororo, and multi tasking by flipping through the papers.

Scott walked in the charming little gathering with Emma Frost at his side and everybody cheerfully greeted them and asked of their whereabouts and how it was for Scott's first time driving again.

Emma informed them all that Scott had been a perfect gentleman and date for the night. Scott blushed; he did not exactly think she had agreed to go on a date with him yet.

Jean looked away from them and focused on her newspaper. She chewed her lip, she had never seen Scott look so happy and care free, but maybe that had to do with his sight returning. She wondered why this Emma Frost person could not just stay away and have left their lives as it was.

Jean had to admit she was surprised to learn that this was the famous Emma Frost that Scott had been obsessed with, the girl who had guided him when he was blind and they were all captured experiments to Stryker. She was a lot prettier than Jean had expected and certainly a threat.

Jean was disappointed because she had anticipated and excitedly planned her days with Scott after he got his glasses, but he did not spend any time with her because he was with Emma Frost. This was supposed to be special for both of them but Scott seemed too caught up to notice his best friend.

Jean sighed, damn, and her best friend was starting to look so good. It was only a matter of time before his new looks would go to his head now that he could see for himself, and he would forget about Jean now that he could see what she really looked like, and go off in search of better things.

As Scott sat down on the couch with Emma, Jean told Ororo that she was feeling tired, excused herself, and left abruptly for bed. Upon noticing, Scott frowned and excused himself as well, leaving the way she had left.

Warren hooted, "Hankie, how long do you think it'll take now since Red Eye's got his vision back, for him to get that Jean's infatuated with him?"

Hank frowned at the board game and responded, "Warren, for the last time, please don't call me hankie, I am not a handkerchief. I don't think you should call her little crush infatuated either…Okay, I'd say about two weeks now unless Jeanie caves in and confesses it herself."

Ororo said, "Guys, we shouldn't talk about someone who isn't in the room."

Emma queried, "Jean likes Scott? Figures." Warren proclaimed, "You'd have to be blind not to be able to tell she's in love with him!" Everybody laughed at him and his ironic statement and Warren chuckled as well, agreeing, "alright, my bad, so Scott was actually handicapped, but still. That voice, when she wants to persuade him to do something with her," he put on a false soprano and said cooingly, "But Scott, Logan insisted that we should get hands on for physical education especially _with your disability and all.._."

Hank rolled his eyes and looked at Emma, "But wouldn't you know, Ms. Frost? With your telepathic abilities." Emma nodded, "Yes, I did pick up a few stray thoughts, feelings, emotions and such here and there but I don't like to be intrusive and appear to assume or know everything, seeing as how it can set strangers off."

Warren moved his playing piece across the board and mumbled, "What is it about the kid and telepaths? Or vice versa. Ororo you're not attracted to Scott right? You like big strong winged dudes, not little twerps' right?" Ororo groaned.

Emma jerked her head, "Who said I was attracted to Scott?" she shot sharply.

Henry chuckled and said, "Right there, point proven! It was only implied but you assumed that was directed towards yourself, although Warren could be referring to the professor and Jean. Isn't logic a wonderfully twisted thing? Scott's been obsessed with you for a while, far before he actually met you via sight."

Warren laughed, "Obsessed isn't the right word. Mystified, enchanted, bewitched! Speaking of which, Ororo! Tomorrow evening, a romantic little flight since you and I are the only ones who can fly; with a nice little view from the sky with me? Or maybe an evening out, dinner and Pinot Noir, maybe a quickie at the Met. Don't say no or I'll have to take Hank who has been begging me to take him to the Met as my foreign business partner, but you know how that goes. Turbans at the Met don't fare too well. I don't know why you insist on wearing that thing at outings, Hank, it doesn't even make sense."

Ororo didn't look up from Jean's abandoned paper as she replied flippantly, "Forget about it, Worthington."

Warren pleaded, "Come on, it will be fun! Just the two of us, wear something sexy so I can show you off." Hank said sarcastically, "Yes dear, but that means I'll have to starve all of today and tomorrow to fit into anything remotely sexy." Ororo snorted and said kindly, "Nonsense Hank, you look sexy in anything. Blue fur is all the rage. Don't mind Warren, we all know he likes his women skinny, on speed, and cooperative. Or better yet, submissive, and just plain easy."

Warren grumbled, "If that were true, then why would I ask a girl like you on a date every other night?" Ororo threw her hands up in the air and said exasperatedly, "Oh what a charmer! Calling me fat before the first date..."

Warren sighed, "Fine, what about y-." Emma shot him down glacially, "Nope, sorry, Scott's driving me all the way back to Boston tomorrow morning." Warren muttered bitterly, "Telepaths."

Hank looked up from the game, "He's driving you all four hours of the way in his brand new car?" Emma shrugged, "I would call a flight or my private jet, but Scott knows how sick air travel make me these days and offered to drive, besides he adores his new car, he wants to live in it."

Warren let out a low whistle, "You have the bastard so whipped! Whipped before he even saw you, he works fast. Now that he's seen you in person, he still isn't put off that you're probably way out of his league. Seriously, what is it about Slim that chicks seem to love? The brooding skinny, 'I lived on the streets but still remained pretty' look?"

Whatever it was, it did not look like the White Queen was about to spill the secrets. She just looked on airily and smirked, not revealing her thoughts on the subject.

Jean had just about settled into bed in her pajamas when her best friend came in and sat down next to her. She hid her face and peeped at him. He smiled warmly and looked at her so intensely that it gave her a funny feeling. He said, "Hey Jean, look, sorry I've been so distant recently, I've just been boggled. Seeing things for the first time will never get old. I swear I could just look at you all the day and not get bored." Of course, he meant that innocently, meaning that figuratively, but Jean blushed, taking it the wrong way.

Scott sighed, "Anyway, blind or not, I think I'd be able to discern if my best friend was unhappy." Jean mentally thought, you are so oblivious. Scott worriedly put a hand on hers and said intimately, "Tomorrow I am going to be gone, I'm taking Emma back home, but as soon as I get back, I want to spend all my time with you, and get to see you as much as possible."

Jean smiled warmly, "Scott, it's just weird, sometimes I forget you can see now and I'm not used to it. I feel like I'm doing something wrong because I forget you can see what I'm doing and it's awkward. I used to change in front of you and you never knew, for Pete's sake!"

Scott's face visibly flushed and he leaned back and with a quirked eyebrow, asked, "You did? What? When?" He studied her better and said, "There wouldn't be any chance of us still being on that level of intimacy…would there? Or am I not harmless anymore since I can see?" Jean chucked her pillow at him and they both broke out laughing.

Scott protested, "No seriously! I'm still blind to some degree, color blind! I won't look." Jean teased, "Maybe I just liked you better blind." Scott agreed and looked closely in her face and said in a voice lower than he had intended, "And maybe I just liked you better blind too. It was a lot easier when I couldn't see you, to think of you in more platonic terms. Now that there's a visual to go with it, I can't keep my thoughts so friendly. Sorry if I project anything that might put our friendship in jeopardy." Jean's heart leapt up her throat and she could not believe her ears at his sincerity and honesty.

Had Scott semi-admitted that she had a chance at her unrequited more than friends' idea? Scott held her hands and touched her fingers and muttered, "It's funny, without sight, my other senses were more enhanced, and that hasn't gone away, touch is actually even more stimulating to me now with sight."

Jean kept motionless, her fingers tense in Scott's boyish grip. As she allowed Scott to subconsciously feel her hands and study what he had not seen for so long, her body flushed at the thoughts she was thinking compared to the innocent thoughts she picked up from Scott's curious head.

She started drifting off to daydreams, syncing and getting lost in the feeling of the pleasure of Scott's sensation and slipping into his enhanced senses. Her mind fused and synced with his and she began to feel heated due to the pleasure coming from his touch on her skin.

Before she could get too heady and carried away, a sharp rap on her door followed by Logan walking in snapped her back to her own mind. Logan grinned mischievously and said, "I thought I smelled boy in the girl's wing. C'mon kids, what did I tell you about the opposite sex in your room after hours, hm? Behave now; I should have an extra eye out for ya Scooter." Scott shrugged nonchalantly and Jean turned bright red and writhed uncomfortably in her sheets. Scott stood up to go, "Just saying goodnight to Jean, I should go though and see that everyone goes to sleep. I have a long drive tomorrow."

Logan nodded, "That's right. Be careful with the car, bub." Logan loped away and headed to the boy's wing to make his last rounds for bed checks before heading off to his own room for the rest of the night.

Scott shuffled to go but Jean called out, "Scott! You don't have to leave yet. Logan's going to bed now, so nobody will bother us anymore."

Scott turned to face the red head in her bed, "Uh, sorry Jean, but Logan said that I'm not allowed in here, and I guess I should respect his rules and stuff. It is getting pretty late and I have to wake up early tomorrow to drive Emma back to Boston." Jean sank into her sheets and turned crimson. She mumbled, "Right, well, good night then Scott."

Scott smiled lopsidedly at her before closing the door and bumping into Emma who was walking past to retreat to her own room.

He smiled and she took his arm lightly and he said, "Hey, Emma, going to bed?" She smiled at him and said, "Be a darling and walk me back to my door, yes? We both need plenty of sleep for tomorrow. It's been nice to visit, I'm really glad I officially met you." Scott walked her the few paces to her bedroom and opened the door for her and as she closed her door, they exchanged goodnights and Jean could hear Scott walking down the hallway, past her door and whistling jauntily, and the slow creak of Emma's door closing.

Emma was already up and about by the time Scott had roused himself from bed and gone to load her bags into his new car. He opened the passenger door for her and got into the car to drive her home.

Looking for comfort, Emma was clad in white yoga pants and a white jacket over her white tank top shirt.

They found much to talk about on the four hour drive there, surprised at how fast the drive went by and their reluctance in departing and ending the conversation. Scott was impressed by how much he had learned about Emma from her, and how sharp, witty, and intellectual she was.

He liked her even more and thought she was very shrewd. As he opened the door for her again for the last time, she shook his hand and they hugged before leaving each other for their separate lives again.

Upon a very long four hour drive home, Scott wearily trudged back to his room but then remembered his promise to Jean. He saw a blond boy with wings protruding on his back and tucked under a bathrobe look at him and smile. Scott uncertainly said, "Warren, right?" Warren laughed and said, "Very funny, Scotty boy, I know you know who I am. I'm the only good looking guy around here, you can't get me confused. How was the Dino, man? Did that Frost girl give you a little road parting gift?"

Scott's face colored and he replied, "No, Warren, nothing like that. The drive was fine, we learned a lot about each other. Have you seen Jean anywhere?" Warren grinned even wider and said, "She's been waiting for you all day but then Ororo got her to get out of the mansion and they're watching a movie."

Scott groaned and said, "Wake me up when they're home, okay?" Warren shrugged his wings and walked away to change for his hair appointment.

Scott awoke only to find it to be the next day, meaning that he had slept in through the night. He got dressed for his day and strolled leisurely down a sunlit path in the garden with shady trees dappling the ground.

The warmth of the sun followed by the sight of warm sunlight and the beauty of the foliage around him enraptured his attention as he strolled aimlessly, with vague intentions of finding Jean and making the day up to her.

A smooth melodious voice called down at him from the trees and he looked up and squinted to gaze into the serene and unmistakable face of his peer, Ororo. She smiled at him, her tan face glowing at her perch sitting atop a tree branch. She floated down slowly to him, jumping from the tree as if there were no gravity. He had officially met her and seen her face but he was still in awe at her ethereal aura and gracefulness.

Scott grinned easily at her and said, "I didn't see you up there, what are you doing in the trees?" Ororo rolled her eyes and replied, "Hiding from Warren Bigheaded Ass." Scott chuckled and he queried, "What time did you come in last night? That ass never woke me up and I wanted to spend time with you and Jean. Do you know where she is?" Ororo nodded, "Jean is training at the gym with Logan, why don't we go down there together?"

Agreeing to do so, the pair walked off to find Jean in the DR where she was breaking a sweat as Logan instructed her. Upon seeing Scott, Logan wolfishly smiled, "Hey Bub, your vacation week's over, we're going back to routine and since you have your sight back, expect training to be Hell and I want no excuses, you understand? Prepare to work your ass off."

Jean rushed over to where Scott and Ororo were watching in civilian clothing, and smiled breathlessly, her face perspiring and overworked. Scott took note of how her red hair stuck to her face with sweat and how excited and exuberant she was in her panting frenzy. He thought she was beautiful, and for the first time, saw her in her uniform, took her for a girl, and admired her form.

They had touched numerous amounts of time, as Jean was always manually aiding and guiding Scott in practices and exercises, and knowing now that the firm flesh he had held or grazed before looked like this, was overwhelming and changed all meaning.

Scott felt lucky for his hidden eyes for Jean did not notice that he had been staring ardently at her as if he had opened his eyes to her for the first time. After Jean showered and changed, she met up with her two friends. Throughout the whole evening, Scott could not stop staring meticulously at his best friend. It was as if the image of her face and persona were synced finally and he was reveling in who she was exactly, and how close they had become. This did not go unnoticed by the white-haired weather goddess who instantly turned Jean around when they were alone together in their room after departing from Scott.

Jean's cheeks were flushed and bright at giddiness of spending quality time with Scott. Ororo looked at her seriously and dead-panned, "Did you see how Scott was looking at you this whole night?"

Jean blushed and shrugged. She and Ororo spent the night talking of their day's events and eventually went to bed.

Scott lay pondering in his bed, thinking over his new feelings for his best friend. He wondered where they came from and at how she had become so attractive. His thoughts were interrupted by a beep on his computer console signaling an e-mail.

He got up and opened an e-mail from Emma Frost. Scott couldn't help but smile to himself at the glow of the computer screen, feeling like a love-struck teenage boy at the sound of anything concerning his love interest. He struck his chest at where his heart was, and he figured he was in love with Emma Frost, and always would be.

She had made it clear she was exclusive and elusive and unreachable, definitely out of his league. Either way, Scott had a good time with her and only wished to have more time with her.

She had hinted that this was not the last he would see of her, and Scott had already begun to wait in earnest at the next time he would see her again.

If only he knew he would not have to wait much longer and that their paths were meant to cross in the near future.

However, he did not know this for sure and following his revelations, he began to pursue his growing fondness for Jean Grey.

A.N.:R&R PLEASE!


	3. Diamonds are Forever

**A.N.: Thank you for reviewing! I hope readers like this future shot in the chapter. **

**To Xmen4life- Hey thanks for your beyond complimentary reviews! I'm blown away by your sweet feedback and wonderous reviews. Indeed, there were many possibilities and while I didn't think I'd do the like, _ years later...thing, it seemed that after reading your idea, and trying to write after a severe writer's block, it seemed like the best thing to do and I just started and came up with this installation! So thanks for yo' support and stuff. Hope you like how this one turned out! **

**-3-**

**Diamonds are Forever**

The autumn leaves of red and yellow swirled around and dotted the landscape around the Xavier Institute in New York.

Inhaling the sweet and crisp scent of crushed leaves, dew drops, and a smoky wooden scent in the cold air, was enough to conjure images of a warm and lit up home with smoke billowing softly from the chimney, and hot apple cider on a cold day.

Inhaling was just what Scott Summers was doing as he got out of his black Bentley, twirling his keys on a finger, and closing his eyes as he sniffed at the air.

When he opened his eyes, he realized that he was not alone.

Earlier that day, Emma Frost, who had arrived at the institute three weeks ago, awoke with a sudden inspiration.

She had had a most enticing dream about a certain well-bodied X-Man team leader, and surprisingly, the very vibrant and strong images of this dream she had did not go away, and rather influenced her thoughts and moods afterwards.

It had been several years since she had last seen him, and thus she was returning to the mansion in New York to settle some odd ends in business, decidedly lever herself up with precious information for her Hellfire Club, and also see to how she would start up her own school in the near future.

Upon arriving, she had been rather bored, as there was not much to do and she found everyone in the mansion to be just like Charles, rather too conservative or Liberal, goody two-shoed, and very dull.

Ever since a time in her adolesance when she was rather stricken traumatized as a girl by an unfortunate incident on Three Mile Island with other mutants who were kept in captivity by Stryker, dreams about Scott Summers were common, although never quite in the context as now up until she had blossomed as a promiscuous business associate in the Hellfire Club.

Having always been waspy and glacial, her newfound sexuality was only enhancing her connection and intrigue by the boy who had been her companion on that dreadful island.

They were now very different people and looks alone did not define that.

Scott, whom she knew had always been quite taken with her, shy and awkward as a teen during their rare encounters afterwards, had also bloomed. Bloomed into a tall, dark and handsome, square-jawed and incredibly gorgeous man.

He had filled out in a good way, his structure was that of a Greek God's and he had matured more over the years, and if she had thought that he was a pretty boy when they were younger, well then what he looked like now only got better.

Being one for pristine confidence, Emma knew that she herself had changed in many ways and that her body had matured and developed more and that she was even more beautiful than before, with her maturity and growth.

Which was why it perplexed her when Scott Summers did not react to her like he would have used to when they had shared an unspoken and tacit bond and also very intense and deep stares and he had been completely smitten with her.

She knew how good she looked when she stepped out of her white town car, sashaying up to the same mansion as an entirely different person.

Her delight was spiked by Scott Summers and how he had _grown_!

She knew how her body looked in her white fitting clothing and how her face looked when she looked over at him, lugging her bags for her.

What came with his growth was also a new immunity to her, which she could not figure out.

He did not gape and think loosely like the other team members had when they saw her.

He used to be among the few who actually flattered her with his youthful but genuine thoughts on her.

Now his mind was solidly guarded and stoic like his sculpted face.

Over the next few weeks as she settled in, she became very bored easily as she had to lay low and the company of the X-Men was very tedious.

The only company she was not graced with, was that of the mysterious and still-brooding Scott Summers, who did not hang around her as much as he had used to.

When in pure desperation, she had tried to strike up conversation with him, it was casual and easily-flowing, but she could not get past his mental barrier and something about how easily they fell into sync with one another seemed to bother Scott more, and hence he seemed to avoid her.

Emma wondered why it was so hard for this man to let himself go when he easily could in her presence; but then she spotted the problem.

Emma who did not care for Jean Grey, ever since they were teens and vague acquaintances, had known that the redhead had sported a crush on the 'blind boy' since they were teens, and just scoffed it off.

Now Jean Grey, who had also grown into a vivacious woman, sported a beautiful diamond engagement ring with ruby rocks sparkling on the band, in symbolism.

They were engaged.

The once stiff-jawed, skinny and painfully good-looking young boy who was just as painfully shy, was engaged to the once thin and waify red head who had an obsession with the former.

By the thoughts she picked up in the mansion, Emma knew it to be 'true love'.

It was enough to make her strangely ill and also enough to intrigue her more about the young boy who had come into adulthood so grandly.

While Emma tried to entertain herself with flirtations with the brown haired man, she could never feel satisfied, wanting more from him.

As always, he was still oblivious and unaware, making him even more delectable.

Emma Frost felt a desire like no other, one that involved most of her, and one that was not returned for the first time.

It involved the past, a past that was so different from who she was today, and it involved her pure lust and need.

He proved to be challenging, and frankly Emma had never had any challenges involving men and boys and this set her off

He was imperceptible to her new cleavage and busts, her new body and seductive power.

What feelings he had had for her were now categorized as a young boy's lovefooled infatuation of care free days.

At first she went even against her own dignity and dressed up knowing she looked amazing in what she wore.

Casually bumping into him when they were alone, her being scantily clad and catching him off guard with the right timing even proved to be futile.

The man was harder to read than a rock.

He was polite and chivalrous, treated her well and was charming, but never enough to make her feel satisfied. She wanted more so badly.

Usually she would not have even tried for this kind of thing, he was not a savvy business man who would benefit her, and he was not of value for anything monetary. He was simply himself, and what she wanted was fueled by her own self, someone she had not sincerely acted for in a while, only acting upon impulse and calculative power struggles.

When nothing worked, not even her best tricks and blunt seductions, she tried a different tactic.

She observed with distaste and disdain how he looked at Jean Grey with pure..what was it. Love?

How Jean Grey was plain, average, a normal and nice girl to bring home.

She wore clothes that did not make a big deal of herself and she was the girl next door, literally.

So Emma awoke after a dream that did not fullfill her want in reality and forcibly lowered herself to Jean Grey-like standards.

Casting off her sultry clothes, lingerie, and white tube tops, Emma reached to the bottom of her luggage and found an old faded pink Massachusetts sweater.

She put the sweater on and didn't mind that it had been shrunk and was too short to cover her toned stomach.

She put on black spandex bike sorts, some sneakers and set out to try and interests Scott Summers.

She felt she was dressed like an average and boring girl now, homey in her sweater but she knew she was still gorgeous, and hoped that her degradation in attire might sway Scott in to thinking that she could be a normal girl too, not always interesting and rich. That maybe she could be sporty.

When Scott opened his eyes, he saw Emma Frost standing before him in a cropped pink sweatshirt with MASS in white letters across her chest, and tight black spandex bike shorts. She had lifted her black sunglasses on her head and then twisted her blond hair into a pony tail and smiled at him amusedly.

As always, since he had known her, his heart lurched at how beautiful she was, but he never let on. He had put away his crush on her as one of a school boy's that was just harmless and certainly not serious now that he was older. And obviously she was always going to be unattainable to him and just a youthful crush.

She must have endured his crush for a long time, always thinking it was endearing. Now he would have to prove to her that he was over that phase in his life and that he was not an awkward and weird juvenile boy anymore who thought she was a goddess. Now was to prove he had gotten older and wasn't so foolish anymore.

So Scott puffed up his chest and smiled somberly at her, still thinking little boy thoughts in his head.

Scott cleared his throat and spoke in a manly voice, "Good morning Emma! Isn't it a bit early for you to be up?" He teased her of his knowledge that she was known to sleep in late and indulge in herself.

Emma smirked and thought of how she had woken especially early to see him. What exactly she was aiming to achieve by seeing him, she still did not know. She figured she'd just figure it out as she went along. It's not like she was actually thinking of breaking up an engagement or anything...Or was she? What exactly did she want? She couldn't say.

"Charmed, Scott. I see you have a new car. Or several in the garage I presume? It makes me nostalgic of the first car you had. Do you remember that day?"

Scott lifted his eyebrows, impressed at her memory. "How can I forget? I was such a little boy who thought he had everything that day. A new ride, and a spin with the girl of his dreams. Do you remember what a twit I was?"

Emma smiled, liking how this was going with a trip down memory lane. "How can I forget what a perfect gentleman you were? Not like the other pig headed boys our age then. How about you take me for another spin? For old time's sake?"

Scott gulped and gestured to his car, "Uh, well, I mean, sure. I'd love to. If you really want to! I will take you for a drive in another car though, one of my favorites for aescthetic reasons. I can't take Emma Frost out in just any old car!"

Emma laughed, "But of course, darling. Any old Bentley just won't do. You must drop your little boyish notions of me being this absolute New England diva. On the contrary, I like your selection in cars. A good car collection says a lot about a man."

Scott felt himself swooning again like he had all those years ago. She understood cars and she was hotter than spice.

She came from luxury, wealth, and power and yet she was still so smart and easy for him to get along with.

Emma laughed a little, "Jean Grey must be a saint to be a girl whose fiance has such a stellar car obsession. I'll bet she endures the splurges on expensive car models. What a keeper you've found. A woman whose patience is granted by... love."

Scott chuckled, thinking that she was right, that Jean was not as understanding about his male need for luxury sports cars, and how she would never understand why he spent so much money on these necessities.

It was good to have someone who understood, especially a woman. She was so different.

How was it that this woman could make him feel like a 16 year old boy again?

Emma put her hand on her hip and said, "Well, prior to that how do you feel about going on an entirely different spin with me? I was just, oh on my way to go bicycling. Would you like to ride with me?"

Scott managed to nod and eagerly said, "Hang on, I just have to bring in some groceries for Jean and then I'll be out after I change into my cycling gear. Wait 'till you see me in spandex!"

He wiggled his brows and ran off. Emma watched his retreating back and laughed out loud, surprised that he made her laugh so sincerely and at his little spurts of adorable humor and his boyishness that still remained after he had matured so much.

Emma found herself excitedly and genuinely actually looking forward to spending this time with him. Usually she didn't know if she felt at all at times, but this was real.

Scott stomped upstairs as quickly as possible, not wanting to keep his childhood crush waiting.

He had unloaded the groceries in the kitchen and swiftly ran to his room where his fiance was still in bed, after a long and very tantalizing night up with him.

She smiled lovingly at him as he entered, and sat up with the bed sheets around her nude torso.

Scott kissed her on the cheek and brightly smiled back.

She mused, "Why, someone's in a good mood this morning! Morning, lover."

Scott ducked into his closet and yanked out his bicycling outfit of spandex shorts and neon shirt.

Jean stretched and handled a hot mug of coffee in her hand that he had prepared for her. "Going on a bike ride? So devout and determined, my Scottie."

Scott grinned goodnaturedly as he took his shirt off and pulled the tight spandex shirt over his chest and stomach. Jean sighed in appreciation at his taut stomach and pecs.

"Emma Frost just invited me to go cycling with her. Isn't that nice? She didn't strike me as the type to go cycling."

Jean choked on scalding coffee, and then coughed out, "Ouch. Oh, me neither. Well that's nice of her."

Something about the proposition and how enthusiastic Scott was troubled her. She knew he had been obsessed with her as a kid and since she had been a mysterious presence in guiding him off a dreadful island, but now that she was back again, Jean wondered how much of his admiration stayed.

She shook it off though, and reminded herself that they were older now, grown out of silly phases in life, and different people with more practicality. She loved Scott and trusted him more than anyone else.

Scott was a very loyal and strong-willed leader and he was someone who took care of Jean with a devotion that was very rare in people.

As he pulled his socks on and his cycling shoes, he rummaged through a top shelf for his helmet and fingerless gloves.

Jean thought out, 'I've never seen a man who looks so good in spandex.'

Scott grinned at the thought and sauntered over to her, leaning above her to kiss her lips.

"Stay in bed. After my ride, you can help me out of this stuff."

Jean bit her lip and reached over gracefully to flick the waistband of his tight shorts on his skin.

A burnt red leaf twirled down and spiraled onto Emma's shimmering blonde head.

Scott came up behind her and plucked it off and she turned suddenly to face him standing right behind her, very closely.

Her breath caught for a second, at finding him so close to her out of nowhere and wiggling a red leaf at her face.

She looked up with brilliantly ice blue eyes and cocked her head, parting her lips slightly in quiet wonder and tranquility.

She subconsciously licked her bottom lip with the tip of her tongue and did not back away from Scott who was standing very close to her.

Scott whipped something out of his pocket immediately and held it up to her. She looked. Chapstick.

"This weather gives me dry lips too, want some?"

Emma smiled a smile that crinkled her eyes and she nodded, "Mmhm. Thank you Scott. I guess my lips are quite chapped."

She took the tube from his browned hand and took the top off and turned the bottom to squeeze out some vanilla flavored Blistex.

She was not the kind of girl to wear chapstick, more of a lipgloss and Dior lipstick wearer, but for Scott Summers, she was just an average, homey, and practical girl today.

Just the type he seemed to like.

Her chapped lips did feel soothed and better with a creamy layer atop them now, and did not sting as much in the wind.

She returned the chapstick and when she looked down, she forgot for a minute, what they were doing completely.

Scott Summers was decked out in riding spandex shorts and a tight t-shirt.

Emma almost itched to pull up the flexible material of his clothes to free the imprinting muscles and chiseled abs straining under them.

She got a good idea of what his body looked like in such tight fitting garments, but she itched to see his nudity in all his glory, skin for skin.

Hesitantly, she looked away and refocused.

This was not like her, to lose her head over a guy's physique and to lust so rawly for someone.

Emma Frost did not want what she could not have, because she could have anything she wanted, thus she must be able to have Scott Summers, if she wanted him.


	4. Tennis Charms

**A.N.: Earlier days, Emma visiting the school grounds on occasion.**

Review please!

* * *

Tennis.

All this planning, the seductive flirtation leading up to an invitation of a tennis match and the subtle tricks I've picked up here and there over the few years in the Hellfire Club and life, the mini white tennis skirt and tight sports bra that makes my skin glisten so in the sunlight and the boy is thinking about tennis.

And then the trail of other unimportant string of thoughts like video games, what to eat for lunch, soccer scores, and oh how interesting, Jean Grey.

Of course, these are just surface thoughts, the random ones that come and go every couple minutes, unguarded and floating around in the air, for anyone to pick up, for him to ponder if he wanted to.

Those firm, tapered fingers of his bounce the fuzzy neon tennis ball up and down on the court, flexing the veins connecting all of his muscles on his arms and hand together, and his next thought is about how to ask Jean Grey to Prom.

I detest Jean Grey.

Let me clear this up, I understand her attraction to a physique and mind like the ones Scott Summers possesses, however I do not understand his attraction to that plain, uninteresting and ginger headed girl.

Even as I bend over to fix a shoe lace oh so casually yet sensually, breeze lifting the hem of my skirt, his eyes are trained on the ball, wondering how many times he can bounce it without stopping, and what else he can bounce with his hands. Hm, maybe this is where his thoughts go typically male and sexual?

He's listing mundane objects such as oranges, an infant, and of course...Jean Grey's hair like he was doing earlier when he had playfully been teasing her in their usual bouts of wholesome friendly fun. Oh help me lord...

Why I even bother...How I find such a boy with such...strange and incomprehensibly dull thinking so luring is questionable. And I, Emma Grace Frost, never question myself.

I gasp, almost hiccup to myself involuntarily though as a scare, a nervous jolt suddenly shocks me as he suddenly, without warning, looks up from his palm which now holds the ball, and smiles at me. Did he...possibly hear me thinking?

He spins the racket expertly in his other hand, a new Prince model, the grip is molded to the handle and I slowly raise my own custom-made racket in front of me, with both hands, sticking my rear out slightly in a ready stance, sighing inwardly, ready to get this already failed game over with.

Our back and forth much like the banter we share is consistent, with spontaneous lobs and volleys, and our skills are fairly matched, though some of his stronger shots are unpredictable much like his demeanor.

I remember the days I spent at the country club when I was still living with those awful people called family, all those tennis lessons paid off, and although I have not played for a while and still have trouble keeping up with his faster top spins, I silently thank Winston, my father, for sending me to those redundant lessons.

Bending over prettily, I give him a view of my white tennis spanky's, reaching down to pick up a ball.

Agitation is already itching at me by the time I pop back up, for his idle thoughts are consistent on the game, the score, and whether or not I'd want to eat one of his famous chilli dogs. The one thought about me when I'm in front of him and it's about food. This is getting absurd.

Oh, my, my, but what's this? It seems my body and mind are acting on their own and I shiver up and down, genuine warmth, respect, and admiration directed towards me, dripping over my mind.

His thoughts are suddenly skewed and the repetition of calm is disrupted by the time I am standing again and turning over my shoulder to glare at him reproachfully.

I can see and feel how I appear to him in his mind, with sunlight catching my perfectly sun-kissed skin, the slight sheen of sweat making it glossy, my light ponytail glowing in his ruby vision. I like what I see, I don't care for modesty, and I am quite beautiful in his eyes, and of course, in general. Beautiful, is his feeling for my appearance as I stood back up after bending down temptingly.

That damn shiver again, and I really do enjoy how I feel and fit in his mind, I look damn good.

He did not notice my legs, the shortness of my skirt, or the bare tightness of my athletic top, he only just noticed as startling to himself as it was for me, when I turned to give him a look of disdain he wasn't supposed to catch on to, which he did not.

It does not matter to me anymore, that dirty fantasies, naughty daydreams, or pornographic thoughts are not scanned in his head about myself, which is what I see and expect in other males.

I feel elated, light, euphoric in an almost manic way I have not felt for a long while. It is purity of aesthetic beauty that he sees in me and I can live with that...It's not racy, it's...rather nice.

This tennis game might not have been a wasted set up after all. Maybe I will humor him and eat one of his chilli dogs after all. Just for propriety's sake, although I don't think I've ever touched or seen chilli in front of me before. From what I can tell, he knows good taste and prides in his barbecuing and chilli-making skills. It is always interesting to try new things I suppose.

Barbecue...I may have to familiarize myself with the concept of burnt, charcoal-tasting meat.

I realize now that he was worrying that I would not like or want the only thing he knows how to make, and he had been fretting about what sort of fancy meals I usually consume.

A tinge of endearment and fondness grows in me, and I look at him with eyes less sharp, and smile victoriously to myself as his muddled head is still preoccupied with what sort of behavior and food would be appropriate for me.

Raising my arm to throw the ball up and strike, serving it precisely, I catch him out on double faults, and for the rest of the game, he is distracted, and slightly embarassed when it ends with me winning, 6-4.

Gripping my hand firmly, he shrugs it off or tries to, and congratulates me, "Nice match, you're great. Maybe next time we can play doubles?"

I curl my lips into a smirk, casually wiping sweat off my temple, "Think you can pay attention with me in the front lines, volleying?"

Scott smiled wryly, naturally in response, "I think I can manage. I'll try my best not to get distracted by your faulty wrist snaps."

Ooh, wit.

How. Nice.


End file.
